


Cub of the Beast

by DemonsMuse



Category: The Blackout Club (Video Game)
Genre: Cults, Gen, Mentions of Character Death, Someone help me I don't know how to tag still, Swearing, kidnapping mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 20:11:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20377423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonsMuse/pseuds/DemonsMuse
Summary: Coming in from the outside is always rough on the kids, especially those who end up coming to Redacre. CHORUS screens who is allowed in and out regularly, though occasionally someone who shouldn't be there gets inside. Once they do? They begin to cause a little chaos.Lucius Williamson is one such child who slipped in between the cracks. He grew up in a place like Redacre... but not under the same rule.





	Cub of the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo, welcome to my third bit of writing on here! I just wanted to write a little about my favorite character ever that I throw just about everywhere, and hopefully, you'll like it!

There comes a moment when you can tell someone has seen things. There’s a look in their eye, a twitch in their step, a manner of speaking that doesn’t match their age; even in the youth, these traits appear. Many of the children in Club exhibit a few. They’ve seen things; They know what can happen. They know their lives aren’t guaranteed, and it shows. A wild but tired look. A hair-trigger on their instincts. Heavy bags under their eyes. There isn’t a day or night when they truly rest. They’re haunted by their knowledge, forced out of sleep in fear of losing themselves forever.

One such child sets up camp in the back of the boxcar, throwing and catching a pocketknife in frail hands. He’s smaller than the rest, clouded with a sense of newness. No one really knows him, though he’s friendly enough. There’s not enough muscle to prove him a threat and even armed he seems helpless. His green eyes catch the light in such a way they reflect a flashlight perfectly. However, there’s an air about him. A certain manner to his movements. A look of bloodlust in his eyes. A hint of madness in his words. He always asked, “how do you do this” or “do you have any tips for me?” searching for more knowledge. He wants to be the best. He _will_ be the best. He was small, _but he had seen things_.

* * *

Lucius blew messy hair out of his face, glancing back through a tattered notebook. Soft leather tickled his fingertips, a few scuffs and cuts baring hastily scribbled pages for all to see. Like the cool breeze from the window, it was a reminder of what was outside. What he’d left behind.

This new family was nice enough, but they had nothing on his old one. Closing his eyes brought back the memories of his younger childhood. Open air, a huge courtyard, a distant building no one was allowed to enter until the proper time. His older brothers ran about, hoisting each other up on their shoulders to take the thickest branches from the trees to use as swords. They all waved around sheathed knives and heavy bandages, childlike glee tainted with something more sinister. A glint only someone from Redacre should know. Within the walls of the Williamson estate nothing was out of the ordinary. Fighting was allowed —even encouraged— among the five boys, creating a hierarchy they all longed to claim the top of for themselves. The same voice filled all their heads; Mother, Father, and those they… “borrowed” from the rest of society. There could be only one. He opened his eyes, rubbing his journal for some semblance of comfort. It may be unusual, but it was less boring than this.

_“This house doesn’t even have an altar.”_ He shuffled off the sheets and grabbed a knife from under his pillow. _“Not one I can use.”_ Glancing at the door, he kept alert for any sounds of footsteps threatening his escape. The bootsteps of his “father” thudded down the hall, leaving a muffled thump only carpet could give. He sighed, then schemed. This wouldn’t be the first time one of his operations was interrupted. The man had an odd aura about him ever since Luci arrived; the air of someone who knew what was happening here. A smirk crossed his face. The air of someone who thought they knew what was happening here. _“That old man doesn’t know anything, especially not about me.”_ Carefully placed steps of his own brought Luci towards the door, assessing where the elder had stopped. Closed eyes and open ears, just as he was taught. A black-and-white visual of the house constructed in his mind's eye. The hall, the stairs, the elder’s room just next to the bathroom. All carpeted, much to everyone’s distaste.

_ “Based on the sound…”_ The figure of the elder flashed into view, _“He’s almost at the stairs.”_ Luci near perfectly visualized the situation, down to the torn up carpet at the upper landing. The house was too simple for him, too predictable. He’d gotten used to the noises within a few days of moving in. It bored him.

_“Too easy.”_ The plan was set in place. Luci slipped the knife in his pocket, shuffling across the carpet to catch a bit of attention. A gentle question floated through the air, wondering who would be up at this hour. _“Now, to make some noise.”_ Luci pulled a textbook from the bookshelf and wedged it under the window, putting all his weight into the makeshift lever. The old wooden frame creaked in the darkness, echoing just enough to reach the other end of the hall. He could feel the glance towards the door as his “father” debated whether to act or not. He knew he would. Taking his time, Luci climbed half out the window, staying there for a few moments fiddling with his jacket zipper. The night air whispered against his ear, chilling his skin just enough to keep him awake through The Instrument’s call. Luci closed his hand around another weapon as the doorknob squeak-clicked into place.

As soon as the door swung open, a small spear lodged into the doorframe next to a twisted, distorted face. Fear turned to fury as every eye narrowed in distaste towards the child sitting on the window. Cackling filled the room as Luci swung down to the ground, rolling out the momentum and brushing off some leaves.

“Hey, ‘Dad,’” He looked back up at the window, “Tell _your_ God _they’re next._” With a smug smirk plastered across his face, Lucius ran and vaulted over the community wall just in time to hear the telltale fanfare of The Angel appearing a few steps behind him.

Luci broke into a dead sprint, heart pounding steady to the beat of his footsteps. Physical panic set in, but the mind remained clear. Luci felt the heat behind him as he took every sharp turn he could, swinging on branches and throwing rocks in other directions. His chest burned, but his will burned stronger.

_“This is when they run missions.”_ A rock hit the invisible being with a dull thud, dropping it to the ground long enough to climb. Luci closed his eyes, staring as the bright flame burned into his eyelids, filled with anger, or perhaps just the thrill of the hunt. _“Alas, it won’t hunt me much longer.”_ The soft whistle of fireworks in the distance brought the world back into focus, barely noticing the eldritch whispers beginning to echo in his mind.

_“Oh.”_ Lucius felt his head start to spin and collapse inward. The Instrument echoed and pulsed through his skull, leaving endless racket in its wake. Luci had to force his eyes open to stay awake just a bit longer, but held his ground. _“Don’t tell me it’s a duo-- Fuck you Dax--”_ Just before the pressure forced him under, the whispering faded away. The heat left as the boy closed his eyes, watching The Angel run towards the hatch at the edge of the woods. He barely noticed how hard he was breathing. The world came back into focus as he laughed breathlessly at himself._ “Yeah, not over that yet.”_ He waited a few more moments to catch his breath, then dropped back to the leaves below.

Luci walked deeper into the forest, feeling the energy come back to him from all around. The woods took him into their embrace, leaning down to shroud him in shadow. This was his domain. Creatures of all sizes skittered around him, but none dared get too close. There was something behind him; something even the wildlife feared. Something… watching, and he knew it. He reveled in it. He _wanted_ it to watch.

“I’ve grown a bit here.” He mumbled to himself, pulling the knife back out to mark some trees in case he blacked out. “I’m definitely better than where I started.” He kicked a few leaves away from the base of a tree, revealing a small bowl with some boxed bandages inside. The wind grew colder as he came closer to his destination, gaining a strange smell of mildew and moss. The knife grew heavier in his hand as he took a small lighter in the other, rusted, dented, and nearly destroyed, but still flickering with whatever power remained. A few more minutes brought a small patch of bushes protecting a small, still pond.

Lucius knelt in the dirt, digging out a small space he’d made many times before. Setting the bandages aside, he pushed the bowl into the dirt and stared at his reflection in the water. Mirror-still. He took the battered lighter and clicked it a few times, grumbling under his breath until it showed its flame. He stared into it for a few moments before shaking himself back to reality, placing the light of rebellion where it belonged. In one rehearsed motion, Luci sliced down the back of his hand and allowed the blood to drip onto the flame, never once putting it out.

“Hunter, It’s Lucius.” He kept his head bowed low. “You never thought much of me. I was the smallest, the weakest, the one the least deserving of your time. That was then. Now..?” A smirk crossed his face. “I may not be the strongest yet, but I know who I have to surpass. And once I do?”

“I will have _earned_ your eye.”


End file.
